Dark Knight in a Fallout Glow
This is a crossover fiction !' Fallout canon is respected but ''HERE '''ON THIS story page DC & Fallout Universes meet. You can write your own as you like. I just mean to clarify. For me this is a limited edition where "Supper Powers" are more about what might be done with a will change your world and enough resources or intelligence to make a difference. So I see Bruce Wayne and his vigil anti detective persona as the Dark Knight, Batman to be a natural hero for a post apocalyptic world. Some other variations on Batman's infamous foes might appear but I give you my word I will try my best to keep it all with in the realm of what might be possible in a Fallout universe. So just keep an open mind, hang on for the ride and have fun with it. ''Foundations of the'' Dark age Old New York was nearly gutted on that fate filled date of Oct 23rd, 2077 when the bombs rained down and the earth its self trembled. The Big Apple truly took a deep bite to it's core. Yet the frame work, all be it twisted, remained. New York was built deep into the sturdiest of bed rock and the Detroit steel that had been riveted to form the city's bones was forged with more than a bit of actual American blood, sweat and tears. * The bombs could damage the city's facade but it would be rebuilt as the heart of a nation lived on after the fallout. When the alarms went up and the known masses of the city's population were trapped beneath the atomic glow most fell into a few categories. The first where there because they doubted that such things could actually happen on American soil. In their own over confidence and day by day drive to make their way in a financial capitol of the American Dream they were caught where they were when it was already to late run. The second class of citizens were just that, those already forgotten by the dream of other Americans. The homeless had no place to run, they had no choice but to live or die. There where also those that chose to survive in the city's underbelly, the Mafioso who ruled the "profitable" crime industries. By day, many of these vultures had strode among the clouds in penthouse palaces as they bought their way with dirty money into the presence of Old New York's already corrupt ruling classes but their true place was below the sewers, where they showed their teeth and reached out by the force of their thugs to maintain small swatches of turf as they competed with rival Mafioso scum to sell poison and vice. So when the bombs began to fall these vermin scurried from their towers to hold up in fortified basements as a practiced maneuver in preparation, not for the end of the world but more for fear of turf wars or an unlikely police raid. No less predatory were the common street filth that ran the street gutters feeding on the same communities that bread them but had to little power to control the rabid bilge they tossed out and soon came to fear. *Many street raider gangs had competed for years, disrespecting them selves with their "beat in beat out" Kill or be Killed, take all you can, rape the losers and shit on the rest", so called life.. They were used to killing any and all they saw as just an excuse for violence. *They killed rivals and defenselessness victims alike. Most would brag they did it just for fun. They did not know much, but they knew violence. They knew how to take, they knew how to feed on others and they knew all the sub structures of old New York.. The street raider gangs feed on life that was washed down civilizations drains. All to many humans and inhuman beasts found them selves thrust alike into a refuge some knew, some suspected, but all deep down feared. *All these Citizens, forgotten dregs and human monsters were forced together, down into subways, sewers and countless spaces in the labyrinth of New York's, multilevel, twisting system of service tunnels to countless forgotten basements and some more notable secret caves.. These havens turned out to be the foundation of what would rise again, reforged over hundreds of years to be known as Gotham City. Birthing pains The first years after the bombs fell were the darkest. It was as if a cruel dark God had diced the great city into a broken, scattered, puzzle and intentionally scorched some pieces while whimsically sparing others, preserving one district in a blanket of chocking ash while allowing another to crumble in fires that burned for weeks. Many of those who had considered them selves lucky to escape the initial blast would be counted among those that suffered the worst. To survive most fled from each other and split into factions, perhaps more divided than they had ever been in the years before the sun set on the prideful big apple. Still, like rats, hunger, thirst and desperation drove each camps scouts from the shadows to scavenge among the piles of now bloated un-buried dead. The survivors found that the remnants of the national guard and other first responders were just as desperate and cut off as they were. Key leadership could not be located and rumors spread of the commonwealth's government locking them selves away in secret bomb shelter Enclaves. Panicked refugees stormed the known Vault Tech shelters but found most far to well fortified as radiation sickness and rampant disease took it's toll. Meanwhile Secluded in the rolling forested hills south of the Cross River Reservoir, in the county of Westchester, north of New York city the Wayne Manor estate was spared the initial destruction Related Art Gallery GothamHell.jpg FOBatSignal.jpg You see where I am going with this yet ? I'll be back with more later. Written by SaintPain SaintPain→ That was broke afore I got here. 11:31, July 19, 2012 (UTC) Category:Members Fiction Category:Crossover Fiction Category:Fiction & Art